


tumblr prompt fills and snippets

by tarcanza



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28703835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarcanza/pseuds/tarcanza
Summary: As the title suggests, a place to stash any and all prompt fills/snippets/ficlets that I post onmy tumblr
Relationships: Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews
Comments: 28
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Am I a real fic writer now? 😂 
> 
> Also, officially accepting prompts over at [my tumblr](https://tarcanza.tumblr.com/) so feel free to shoot me a message if there's anything you want to see me write!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link to the [original post](https://tarcanza.tumblr.com/post/640062864548347904/prompt-it-doesnt-feel-like-a-team-without-jonny)

**Prompt: It doesn't feel like a team without Jonny**

General Audiences | 700 words

Tags: Angst

* * *

It doesn’t feel like a team without Jonny. 

He can hear himself say as much to the media, voice slipping to softness for a fraction of a second before he catches himself. He snaps back as smoothly and quickly as he can, face evening out into the pleasant if a little bland expression he’s mastered over the years, spending the rest of the interview delivering nice, generic sentiments that will be packaged into neat little soundbites. It’s too late, though. He knows what the headlines will say the next day. 

He wonders if Jonny will see it. The thought of it makes his palms itch, heat flashing up his neck as his heart rate goes up enough to make his breaths a little louder, a little sharper. 

He has no idea what the fuck that means. 

He hadn’t meant to say it like that, exactly. It’s just that the thought has made a home for itself in his brain without him even realizing. It’s subtle, usually. A niggling at the back of his head, a low-level thrum of _odd, wrong, bad_ that leaves him feeling slightly off-balance. But sometimes it blows up, rams into him with a kind of speed and intensity that almost makes it hard to breathe. 

It hits him on the ice, on the bench, in the locker room. Follows him home, keeps him tossing and turning in the dark when he’s trying to get a few hours of sleep before his kid wakes him up with his screams. 

Worst of all are the times when he’ll look at everyone around him, and a secret part of his brain whispers “ _who the hell are these people?_ ” 

He always tries his damned hardest to stomp it out the second it arises. Sometimes it works. 

Sometimes it doesn’t. 

The thing is—

The thing is. 

He’d always just assumed that Jonny would _be_ there no matter what, screaming at him on the bench until the end of time. The one constant in the ever changing landscape, the one thing in his life he knew he could depend on, because he always has. The one person that made it bearable to grapple with the ugly parts of the NHL that they don’t tell you about—the crushing come-down that follows after years of glory. The shock of seeing all the guys you considered a second family leave, one-by-one. How you start living life with one eye on the clock, even though you tell everyone that you’re focused on here and now, you’re ready to win another Cup. Because he knew he and Jonny would be fighting through it together, the way they have with everything else. 

But he was wrong. 

It doesn’t feel like a team without Jonny, because it _isn’t_ a team without Jonny. Not for Patrick. 

He thinks about talking to Jonny about it, sometimes. But it’s hard. He’s busy these days, his kid filling all the time and space in his life that hockey hasn’t already. And he loves it, loves _him_. Wouldn’t trade it for the world. He doesn’t call Jonny as much as he should, maybe. And when he does call, well. Jonny doesn’t always pick up. 

Sometimes he does. 

“Hi,” Jonny says after a beat, voice crackling through the phone. 

“Hey, Tazer,” Patrick says a little breathlessly, clutching his phone tighter. There’s so much he wants to say, thoughts running a mile a minute. He feels the words claw their way up his throat—

But they get stuck, for some reason. 

They exchange small talk, polite and disconcertingly stilted. Any moment now, Patrick will say something. He just has to work up to it a bit. Any moment—

“Listen,” Jonny says suddenly. “I, uh, gotta go now. Not feeling great, so.”

“Oh!” Patrick says, eyes widening. “Is everything—”

“I’m fine,” Jonny says. “Just gotta rest a little. But I’ll talk to you sometime, yeah?”

Patrick swallows. “Yeah, okay,” he makes himself get out. “Take care of yourself, Tazer.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Yeah,” Jonny says eventually, voice quiet. “Thanks,” he adds a few seconds later, following it up with a quickly muttered “bye” before he hangs up, and then Patrick’s left blinking at the phone. 

It doesn’t feel like a team without Jonny. 

But maybe he’s going to have to find a way to make it. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link to the [original post](https://tarcanza.tumblr.com/post/640079926037561344/high-and-horny-patrick-trying-to-convince-in-a)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accepting prompts! Shoot me a message over on [my tumblr](https://tarcanza.tumblr.com) if there's anything you want to see me write!

**Prompt: High and horny Patrick trying to convince (in a very 'subtle' manner) Jonny to let him suck his dick**

Mature | 700 words

* * *

“Come on, Taze,” Patrick murmurs from between the cradle of Jonny’s legs, rubbing his forehead against the hot space where Jonny’s thigh creases underneath his boxers. “Lemme do it,” he says, voice muffled by the fabric. His vowels drag out a little long, words blurring into one another. He sounds fucking stupid and looks even stupider, face buried in Jonny’s groin, messy curls spilling over and tickling against patches of bare skin. 

Jonny has to fight the urge to shiver, but he doesn’t let himself show it. Just stays stock-still and directs his gaze back to his book and flips a page like he’s actually comprehending a single damn thing he’s reading. “No,” he says shortly, proud of how unaffected he sounds. 

Patrick pops his head up at that, red-faced and pouty, reaching up to dig his nails into the sides of Jonny’s thighs in retaliation. “ _Ow_ , you fucker,” Jonny hisses in surprise, legs jerking and book tumbling out of his hands and off the side of the bed. “What the fuck?”

“Come on, just a taste,” Patrick pleads, and Jonny can’t help the flash of heat that goes through him at that, dick twitching shamefully under thin black fabric. It’s stupid. This is stupid. Patrick’s blinking at him with heavy lids, eyes shot through with red. His hair’s a fucking disaster, and the cloying, sweet-sick smell of weed is still sticking to his clothes. “No,” Jonny repeats, and it’s harder to get out this time, a little unsteady. He clears his throat. “You’re high, asshole,” he says, and Kaner just grins at that, wide and dumb. 

“Exactly,” he says, lowering his head to rest his chin on Jonny’s groin. “Got the munchies, if you know what I mean.” An awful waggle of the brows and a palm pressing down suggestively over Jonny’s dick confirms what Kaner means. 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Jonny grits out, cheeks going hot in embarrassment, especially when Kaner’s smirk goes filthy at the realization of how hard Jonny is under his hand. 

“Everybody’s got their post-pot cravings,” he says reasonably. “It’s, like, basic biology or some shit.” He ducks down to mouth over Jonny’s dick briefly while Jonny helplessly jerks his hips up in response. “Mine just happens to be your cock,” he says, coming back up for air, somehow managing to sound matter-of-fact and moronic at the same time, thumb drawing mindless little circles against the head of Jonny’s dick. 

“Jesus Christ,” Jonny groans, throwing an arm across his eyes. “You’re high,” he tries again, but even he can hear how half-hearted it is. He takes his arm off his eyes and casts a look down when Kaner snorts.

“As if I wouldn’t want to choke myself on your dick if I weren’t,” he says with a roll of his eyes. He drops his head down again, this time nuzzling in so that his cheek is rubbing up against Jonny’s dick, letting out warm, wet exhales that should be gross, probably. And they are. But they’re also getting Jonny hot, because apparently his body follows no rhyme or reason where Kaner’s concerned. “Plus, I don’t think I really have a gag reflex right now?” he continues, “Which I don’t really get, but Sharpy dared me to—”

“Fine!” Jonny interrupts, voice cracking a bit. He scrubs a hand across his face. “You can suck my dick, I guess.”

Kaner’s face lights up, dumb grin back in place. “Alrighttt,” he says, reaching up to fist bump the hand that Jonny didn’t even realize he was clenching. “Showtime.” 

“I hate you,” Jonny groans even as he lifts his ass so that Kaner can wriggle his boxers down below his balls. “I hate you so much.” 

“No you don’t,” Kaner says immediately, sure as anything, grinning up at him with his stupid eyes and his stupid mouth and his stupid hair, and yet somehow still so beautiful that Jonny forgets to breathe sometimes. 

No, Jonny really doesn’t. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link to the [original post](https://tarcanza.tumblr.com/post/640167678298963968/established-relationship-comfort-fic-set-during)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I feel like this is low-key cheating? The prompt was super similar to a WIP of mine, so I just shared a scene from that WIP instead. And I'm eventually gonna post that fic on ao3, so I wasn't really sure about uploading it here. But I figured if the people of tumblr are seeing it, I also just might as well upload it here? IDK Y'ALL HAHA
> 
> Also, accepting prompts! Shoot me a message over on [my tumblr](https://tarcanza.tumblr.com) if there's anything you want to see me write!

**Prompt: established relationship comfort fic set during this season. jonny is struggling with both his health and living without hockey for the time being and also with the fact that patrick still gets to go out and play and spends so much time away from him. however patrick is always the caring and understanding boyfriend and is used to jonny’s moods 👀 do with that what you will 🤭**

**My response:**

Ok so about two weeks before the news about Jonny broke, I started writing a fic about….Jonny getting a life-threatening illness and Patrick taking care of him 💀(And yeah, when I learned about Jonny…I was totally like ‘oh shit I cursed Jonathan Toews’)

ANYWAY

I say this because I’m still writing that fic—it’s my baby, it’s gonna be like 200k long. And the plot of it is essentially your prompt :D (Well they start off as just friends but they get together really early on)

So as an apology for not being able to fill the prompt (since it’s so similar to the piece I will be writing), I thought I would share a scene from that fic, actually! I know it’s not what you asked for, I’m sorry 😭But I hope it’ll do! 

Context:

Jonny gets sick during the summer of 2016, pretty soon after the Hawks get kicked out of the playoffs. It happens early enough in the summer that Patrick and Jonny are both still in Chicago. And obviously after learning what happened, Patrick stays in Chicago with Jonny instead of going home to Buffalo. And Patrick ends up taking care of Jonny not just over the summer, but permanently, even during the season. Anyway, as a result of this, Patrick hasn’t been home to Buffalo in a really, really long time. Jonny knows how much he loves it and feels SO guilty that Patrick hasn’t been able to go back because of him. For the break the Hawks get during the season (stretch of days around Christmas) Jonny begs Patrick to go home. He keeps bringing it up, pestering him. “You need to go home.” He keeps saying it. Patrick refuses. It’s a huge source of tension between them. Jonny says stuff like “I hate that I’m the reason you can’t go home,” and just has all this guilt. So Patrick FINALLY caves and agrees to go to Buffalo for a few days. But before he leaves for Buffalo, he gives Jonny this speech: 

* * *

So Patrick starts. “There’s this—feeling I get inside me,” he says. “It’s been growing, the older I get. I don’t know exactly what to call it or how to describe it—restlessness, maybe?” That’s not exactly it, fuck. “Feeling unsettled,” he tries. “Feeling like I don’t belong,” he tries again before letting out a short laugh. “God, that sounded more pathetic out loud than I thought it would.”

Patrick can feel Jonny’s eyes on him, but he can’t make himself look back. “Anyway,” he continues, “It confused the fuck out of me, because that’s kind of the opposite of what’s supposed to happen, right? Like, life is—” he pauses, searching for the right words. He’s no goddamn philosopher, so they don’t come easily. But he needs Jonny to understand. “I don’t know, you grow up,” he says. “‘Mature’ and find your roots, so to speak.” He searches for an example.

“Like I watch it happen to all of the guys, Hoss and Hammer and Sharpy and just fucking _everyone_ —getting married and having kids and just… settling down, I guess,” he says. “And I look at that and just feel so—” He cuts off again, words lodging in his throat. This is harder than he thought it would be. “I just feel so fucking removed from it, so incredibly far,” he says softly.

“At first I thought it’s because, well—everyone knows I have some growing up to do.” Understatement of the century. “I’m not exactly—the pinnacle of adult maturity, or whatever the fuck.” He can feel his lips twist into a bitter smile. He hears Jonny make a soft noise, and he raises his hand up. “But,” he says, emphasizing the word. “I’m starting to think it’s more than that.”

He finally makes himself look up at Jonny, has to say the words to his face. “I started to notice that—that the only time I don’t feel that way is when I’m with you,” he says, feeling raw and exposed. Jonny’s staring straight at him, gaze unwavering and unreadable. “That confused me for a while too,” he continues. “Figured you do such a good job at annoying me that my brain just gets occupied and forgets,” he says, unable to resist a quick smirk.

“But—” he says, smile fading. “It’s not that. Or at least not _just_ that, because don’t get me wrong—you do a helluva job at being a gigantic pain in my ass,” he snorts and watches Jonny’s lips helplessly twitch up at the corners in response. “But—I finally figured it out, why I don’t feel that weird—restlessness, with you.” The words are getting harder, more honest. He makes himself keep his eyes on Jonny’s face anyway.

“Why actually, I kind of feel the opposite. Why I look at you and feel what you’re supposed to feel when you buy a house and get married to some beautiful girl and get a dog and have 1.5 kids, or whatever the fuck,” he says, taking a deep breath before saying what he wanted to say, what the problem has been this whole time, the broken bridge, because Jonny didn’t get it. Because Patrick had never told him.

“You’re my home, Jonny,” he says, watching the way Jonny’s eyes go a little wide. “I’ll go to Buffalo. I will. But it’s not home. Not for me. I need you to know that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will probably clean it up a bit and add more descriptors and stuff—this is pretty bare bones. But I hope it was at least interesting to read lol!

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](https://tarcanza.tumblr.com/) for updates and also on [twitter ](https://twitter.com/tarcanza). Come say hi!


End file.
